


Orange lilies

by Kangoo



Series: April Bouquet [19]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Threats of Violence, maeiv's treatment of illidan... is it fucked up or what?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangoo/pseuds/Kangoo
Summary: wise men run when kael'thas goes to war
Relationships: Illidan Stormrage/Kael'thas Sunstrider
Series: April Bouquet [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685779
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54





	Orange lilies

**Author's Note:**

> it's 4 am my dudes i'm sorry this couldn't be higher quality............
> 
> theme: hatred/revenge

Kael’thas strides into the Vindicaar, trailing embers in his wake, and the wisest among them jump out of his way. A paladin is too slow to step aside and gets unceremoniously dragged to the side by a demon hunter. Her protest dies on her lips when she meets Kael’thas’ gaze in passing, and she gives the demon hunter a grateful nod as the blood elf disappears around the corner.

“Who sent Lord Sunstrider on the warpath?” Someone asks.

Not an illidari, but a blood elf, which explains the awed fear in his voice as he speaks. They know their king well enough to go to ground when he gets in a mood. It’s easier to wait for the dust to settle than to suffer the brunt of his rage, even if only as a bystander.

“He was talking with Lord Illidan the last time we saw him,” a demon hunter replies, pitching their voice low so as to not be heard. Somewhere in the distance, there’s the roar of a fire flaring to life, and a scream. They wince.

As if summoned by his name, the master of the Illidari rounds the corner. He slows next to them, opens his mouth as if to speak— then there’s another scream and he sighs before taking off.

Curious, the small group follows after him.

The doors to the room their leaders have taken to meeting in has been blown open. Literally blown: they’re charred, still glowing faintly like hot embers, and one hangs from a torn hinge. The guards posted on either side are looking a little crispy themselves. They give Illidan and his improvised retinue wary glances. Then, wisely, they look away and pretend they haven’t noticed anything.

Inside is chaos.

Kael’thas holds Maiev by the edge of her gorget, holding her bent forward awkwardly so he can look her in the eyes. She’s much taller than him — she’s a night elf and he’s small for his kind — but he seems to take twice as much space as she does right now, flames curling at his feet and around his fingers. The metal of her armor is starting to take on a worrying, heated glow. She tries her best to break his hold but whatever spell he’s got her under must make it hard to move because she can hardly do more than tug pointlessly against his grip and scowl fiercely.

Turalyon and Velen hover a few feet away. They can’t come closer without risking severe burns, but Turalyon makes up for it by yelling at the blood elf, sword poised to strike. Kael’thas doesn’t pay him any mind. His focus is solely on the Warden he’s got pinned down, voice a venomous hiss rising in a steady crescendo as he gets more and more worked up.

“You kept him locked like a _dog_ , you _tortured him_ , and don’t you dare tell me it was for the good of your people- no, shut up, how _dare_ you try to justify this? How _dare_ you- and now you demand his help, you treat him like a weapon to be used and discarded, you’re- you’re—“

Illidan steps forward as his diatribe dissolves into outraged yet unintelligible sounds. Fire licks at Maiev’s helmet. She’s looking more singed by the minute.

“Kael,” Illidan says. His voice is soft — softer than anyone’s ever heard him, surely, gentle in a way it’s hard to believe he could be. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Kael’thas glances down at his hands, the flames acting less control at every breath he takes, then at Illidan, looking almost surprised to see him there. He lets go of Maiev reluctantly. His fingers have left slight indentation in the armor, metal softening under his scalding touch. He lets his hands fall to his sides, curling them into fists. He seems willing to let her go.

Then, when she expects it the least, Kael’thas punches her in the face. The spell-glow around her breaks at the contacts of his fist. She doesn’t go flying, doesn’t sprawl stunned on the ground. She barely staggers back, though her head snaps back in a way that looks painful.

She would have happily returned the favor if Illidan hadn’t chosen this moment to step between the two. He blocks Maiev’s fist with his hand, pushes Kael’thas’ away from his sword, and says quietly,

“We don’t have time for in-fighting. Kael, _let it go_.”

By the look on his face, he won’t let it go. But he does step back, turning his hand under Illidan’s touch to wrap long fingers around his wrist. He tugs and Illidan goes easily, letting go of Maiev and following after the king as he marches out of the room, his entire body tense like a bowstring.

Before they disappear from view he turns back to Maiev. She’s rubbing her tender jaw with a dark look that promises terrible retribution once she gets her hands on him. It’s mutual.

“You’re twice the monster he could ever have become,” he spits out, barring his sharp teeth. “And you’re lucky he’s a better man than I’ll ever be. If it was up to me I’d throw you to the felhounds and laugh as I watch them tear you apart limb from-”

Illidan drags him away as he’s working himself up into another threat. The remaining people exchange awkward glances.

Then, unanimously, they decide never to mention it again. It’s easier than facing Maiev’s wrath, and safer than facing _Kael’thas’_.

**Author's Note:**

> come haunt me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/2Fast2Kangoo) or [tumblr](https://youngster-monster.tumblr.com/)


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